


Love is Overrated

by stringingwords



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clexa, College AU, F/F, Love, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-22 00:52:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11369163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stringingwords/pseuds/stringingwords
Summary: Just a slightly cynical one-shot based on a tumblr prompt.





	Love is Overrated

‘So what did I miss?’ Clarke asks, plopping herself rather unceremoniously into a seat at the back of the auditorium.

The brunette looks up at her quizzically and says nothing, as if expecting Clarke to take one look at her face, realize they don’t know each other, and apologize or otherwise signal that she doesn’t expect a reply. Instead Clarke takes out her pen and notepad, preparing to take notes on the stranger’s words. 

The girl remains quiet, bright emerald eyes assessing Clarke, flicking briefly to her other features, her general appearance, but mainly probing her own eyes. Clarke feels a little swoop in her gut at this odd response, something between discomfort and thrill. Her stubborn streak wills her not to back away from the stare down. 

She sighs eventually, turning back to the front of the room, and Clarke begins mentally gearing up to compose a list of all the ways she’s been rude, but then the answer comes. 

‘It’s pretty much what you’d expect from a seminar called, ‘The Psychological Benefits of Love.’

Her voice is low, soft, but there’s a quality in it too, almost a husk but not quite, not like Clarke’s. More like a more precise enunciation, a clicking of certain consonants. It’s the kind of voice you could listen to for hours.

‘Love is the ultimate potion which releases all kinds of magical chemicals that make you young and healthy and smart, clear your skin and fix all your internal organs.’ She manages to scoff while whispering.

‘Not a fan of love, are we?’

A shrug. ‘Love is overrated. To begin with, it’s far too general a term to be studied objectively. We take all the positive emotions we have and lump them together under the handle ‘love’, but pick out three samples at random and you’ll get vastly different symptoms and chemical reactions. It’s just a convenient term with no real scientific value.’

Clarke is a little awed at the rather more technical answer than she expected. She studies her more carefully. Dark jeans, well-worn but immaculate boots, a button-down shirt. A little nerdy with the glasses. Beautiful. Perhaps even stunning, memorable. Not just the looks. There’s a presence too, far more intense and eloquent than your average college student.

‘Even if you try to narrow it down to romantic love,’ she continues, seemingly unaware of the conclusions Clarke’s come to, ‘and ruling out the problematic questions on whether it’s simply chemical attraction partnered with ideological compatibility and the socially-induced fears of being relegated to the ‘inferior’ status of single, the disadvantages are equal to, if not greater than, the benefits.’

‘Whoa, slow down there, psych nerd. Arts major here. And while I am intimately acquainted with emotions, I try to capture them in colors, not dissect and dismiss them using overcomplicated terminology.’

A smirk. Well, almost. A little quirk of her lips and curious sparkle in her eyes.

‘Alright,’ she says, apparently deciding to humor Clarke with a simpler explanation. ‘Romantic love in its early stages releases adrenaline. According to Professor R. E. Lockwood down there, it makes you more alert, gives you energy and focus, which can only be good things right? Wrong. People in love show attentional biases which makes them overly focused on some things to the neglect of others. And yes, you have more energy, but it uses up the body’s stores, which eventually causes strain. It can make you restless and stressed so you can’t focus on what you need to. It makes it harder to make objective decisions. You have a one track mind, so sure, you’re focused, but on one thing only. Did you know that people who are sad actually tend to make more well-rounded, unprejudiced decisions than happy people?’

Clarke raises her eyes, the speaker at the front of the room forgotten as she lets herself be caught up in the passionate arguments presented in a stage whisper. 

‘And that’s in the best of cases, when love is reciprocal and permissible. What about unrequited love? Love that is considered wrong or impure? Broken trust? Shattered confidence? When you can’t stop the chemicals in your brain even when they’re hurting you or others? Are you slimmer and healthier when you’re binge eating Ben and Jerry’s, and you can’t sleep at night cause you keep replaying biting words over and over in your mind with all that wonderful adrenaline coursing through your veins?’

‘Wow, who broke your heart?’

Clarke regrets her words as green eyes flash darkly and a muscle ticks in her jaw. She may not know the inner workings of the human brain, but capturing emotions through expression is her forte, which makes her a natural at reading body language.

‘That’s neither here nor there,’ she replies tonelessly. 

She doesn’t deny it or try to explain away what she may have felt in the past. There’s something admirable in that.

‘The point is, that things are simpler without love. There are other pursuits which are just and engaging and, dare I say, far worthier and less volatile than love. Love, for all its status as the one ultimate human achievement, is an unnecessary distraction, at best an all-consuming narcissistic pursuit and at worst a cruel taskmaster.’

‘So we should all just stop caring? About everyone?’

She tilts her head in acquiescence. 

‘I don’t buy it.’

The girl raises her eyebrows in curious amusement at the challenge. And while Clarke isn’t quite sure what she believes about love or soulmates or heartache, there’s something about this striking commander of rationality that makes her want to poke at it. She doesn’t feel contradiction will be too ill-received either.

‘You might sit here, spouting off theoretically sound notions on why we’re better off without love. But I’ll bet that if someone you have ‘simple chemical attraction’ to,’ she throws her words back with a hint of mockery, ‘were to saunter up and invite you out, you’d say yes.’

Her cheeks color slightly and Clarke feels a little flush of pride at being the cause.

‘I have nothing against sex. But it can be casual and uncomplicated.’

‘Oh I’ll be the first to agree with you there,’ Clarke replies a little too loudly, causing a few people in the nearest rows to look at them. 

‘Sex is amazing,’ she continues slightly more quietly, enjoying the way the girl’s blush deepens. ‘But it isn’t quite the same if you don’t care about the person, is it? Nothing’s the same. Life might run like a well-oiled machine, but it’s fine rather than fantastic. I guess the real question is: Are we here to simply survive as effectively as possible, or to feel something more than the pragmatic monotony your approach suggests?’ 

The green eyes flick to hers, hold the gaze quietly, pensively.

‘Fair point,’ she concedes. ‘But there are other things to break the monotony: music, nature, the thrill of discovery.’ 

‘But isn’t that a kind of love too? Doesn’t it alter your precious brain chemicals and get you all excited and unfocused? I mean hey, if you get off on experimental hypotheses instead of people does it make you any more balanced and objective than the rest of us?’

A smile then, one that twinkles through her eyes. ‘Probably not.’

Clarke feels a little rush at the sight, considers if one of life’s nobler pursuits might be to adorn those beautiful features in more frequent smiles.

She turns her attention to the front of the room for the first time, growing quickly bored when she finds that the talk pretty much superficially skims what the girl summarized in a few sentences. The attendance sheet comes around and she signs it quickly before passing it down the row.

‘Right, I’m off. Good chat.’

The girl looks slightly disconcerted. ‘You barely listened for more than 10 minutes.’

‘Don’t need more. Not with your clever insight running through my head.’ She taps her temple and winks. ‘If anyone asks I will be able to tell them not only what the talk was about, but present very wordy counterarguments as well.’

She huffs a little, but seems secretly pleased at the compliment just the same. 

‘What’s your name?’ she asks without preamble.

‘Why?’ Clarke teases, noticing how the girl seems hesitant for the first time since they met, scuffing her boot slightly on the back of the chair.

‘Well, when two people discuss such mundane topics as love and what principles should guide one’s life, it seems introductions are in order.’

‘Oh I disagree,’ Clarke replies, leaning over to collect her bag. She catches a whiff of her perfume. Something cool, not too floral. Heady. It makes her want to get closer. ‘Sometimes things are much more enjoyable if they aren’t named and explained. The magic of mystery.’

She looks back to find something different in the striking gaze she’d grown used to, something a little unsure, a little intrigued.

‘So this is it then?’ she asks, almost mournfully.

‘Yep. Although if you do saunter up to me on campus and offer to buy me a cup of coffee you might get a name. The merits of love might be debatable, but coffee is a student’s one undisputed magic potion.’  
Another smile. She tucks it away with the others thinking she just might have something new for Prof. Kane’s workshop this afternoon.

‘Alright then,’ she replies, and leans back confidently in her chair as if the date is as good as set.

‘See you around, Spock,’ Clarke calls in a stage whisper as she attempts to subtly duck out of the auditorium. 

The last, full smile that lights up the girl’s face after she leaves is the prettiest of them all.


End file.
